Disclosure
by standardblack
Summary: He hasn't asked her the inevitable question yet, but she knows he will. He's Jack.


**Author's Note: Wow... I'm pretty rusty. This was written quickly with no beta - please excuse its imperfections. Comments and constructive criticism are always arppeciated ;)**

**Through Season 4. I'm spoiler-free, so if any are included they're accidental.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned these two, they would have moved into a cave together a long time ago...**

_

* * *

__Then why is Kate with him?_ As Sun's question runs through his mind for the hundredth time that day, he presses his palms into his eyes in an effort to clear his thoughts. She had shown no hesitation back at the cockpit when Locke had led his group away… what had changed? He knew the answer even if he didn't want to admit it. He had asked her to go with Sayid and Miles and, in doing so, he had sent her back to Sawyer. It was fairly easy to see what had happened from there. He loved Kate, but he didn't pretend to understand her all the time. And he didn't pretend to understand the connection she had with Sawyer. All he knows now is the uncomfortable constriction in his chest that began when Sayid and Charlotte returned without her. 

The hum of the camp is getting to him; groups huddled around fires, waiting and wondering and talking about the first thing they'll do when they're rescued. Hope is beginning to permeate through the beach again, and he'll let it for the time being. They don't need to know everything Dan told him, or what was happening to Desmond. The sun is beginning to set, but no one wants to sleep for fear of missing the first sign of rescue. Charlotte and Dan continue to argue in hushed tones about what Dan has told them. Juliet wants to talk to Jack about it, to theorize with him and rehash everything Dan said. All Jack wants to do is think.

For the moment, he has slipped away to the water's edge. The sat-phone would get better reception there, he told Juliet. But even as he stands there perfectly still, eyes closed, the constant chatter and the popping of the signal fire encroach on his thoughts like the water lapping at his boots. Restlessly, he runs a hand through his hair and begins walking down the beach, away from camp.

He's only walking for a few minutes when he sees her. The last of the dying light casts a shadow across the sand that he recognizes immediately as hers. Suddenly, he can feel air in his lungs again, and he breathes in deeply and fights the urge to call out to her. He continues walking in her direction, slowing his gait so he'll have time to read her mood. It concerns him that she's back at the beach but not back at camp with everyone else.

He closes the thirty yards between them faster than he means to, but he's propelled forward from the inside out and he can't control it. She sits in the sand, hugging her knees protectively and staring out at the dark water. He can't see her face, but he gets the sense that her eyes are unfocused; she's not watching for the helicopter, she's lost in herself somewhere.

He's surprised when she says, "Hey." Her voice is quiet but steady.

"Hey," he answers back. It's their custom.

He stops at her side and pauses for a moment, looking down at her, giving her time to ask him to leave. But she doesn't.

* * *

She had been sitting there for almost an hour, just at the point along the beach where she could begin to hear sounds from the camp. Relief had washed over her when she'd arrived at the tree line and seen that the beach was not deserted, that she would not be left here alone. But relief was soon replaced by anxiety; she didn't want to face all their questions about Locke and the others, about why she came back, not right now. But her reticence to be put on the spot was far overshadowed by her need to see him again. Her eyes had found him almost immediately, brow furrowed, hands on his hips, talking to Juliet. It wasn't the right time; she needed to catch her breath. She would clear her head and wait for the right moment to make her presence known.

She feels him sit down next to her now. With a deep sigh, he puts the sat-phone in the sand in front of them, then mimics her posture by drawing his knees up, though his arms are relaxed where hers are tense.

He hasn't asked her the inevitable question yet, but she knows he will. He's Jack. That's why she's not surprised when he leans in a bit and nudges her with his elbow.

"You okay?"

She doesn't decide until that very moment whether she'll tell him or not. She hadn't even told Sawyer. But she doesn't need someone who wants to keep her safe, just someone who can make her _feel_ safe, and that's the difference with Jack.

She gives him a sad half-smile, then looks down at the sand.

"I'm pretty sure I was pregnant. But I'm not anymore."

Simple and direct, and she can tell it hits him like a ton of bricks.

He's silent for awhile, taking it in. He fidgets in place and runs a hand through his hair before clearing his throat and looking at her.

"When?"

"A few days ago."

He nods slowly. She can tell he's thinking over the past few days, wondering if he missed the signs and feeling guilty for being so unaware. "Do you have any pain?"

She shakes her head. "Not anymore."

They sit in silence for several minutes, until he sighs her name.

"Kate… I'm sorry."

She nods slightly, lips pursed, and readjusts her arms around her knees. It feels good that he knows, and the tightness in her chest eases a bit. It is what it is, and it's probably better this way, given what she knows about pregnancy on the island. Her hair hides her face, but she feels his eyes on her. She keeps her head down and the silence becomes comfortable.

She knows the answer, but she has to ask.

"Are you gonna tell Juliet?"

He looks at her with his heart in his eyes. "I'm not gonna tell anyone."


End file.
